


Loving Husband, Devoted Wife

by SammysDove_CrowleysKitten



Series: Crowley Series [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cemetery, Crowley comforts her, F/M, OFC backstory, OFC mourns her husband, World War Two, just a little of it anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-12 18:54:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7118338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SammysDove_CrowleysKitten/pseuds/SammysDove_CrowleysKitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhea leaves saying the bunker something about "an old love", this leaves the boys stumped and Crowley jealous... Until he finds her alone in the rain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey lovelies,
> 
> This was originally going to be a single chapter but it ended up being two, hope you guys enjoy :)
> 
> Pretty sure you guys are sick of hearing the 'comment and kudos' bit by now haha... So, you know what to do ;)

* * *

 

“Hello Boys, Where’s the pretty one?”

 

“Aww, I’m right here Crowley.” Dean smirked and Crowley rolled his eyes.

 

“Where’s Rhea, Squirrel?”

 

“She left kinda early this morning”, Sam answered, “She had on a black cloak and she was carrying some purple flowers. Said something about visiting an old love.” Crowley sulked a little at hearing of Rhea with a possible lover.

 

“Sounds like she was goin’ to a graveyard.”

 

“I think she was Dean. She seemed really depressed and her eyes were all red like she’d been crying, when I asked her what was wrong she just brushed me off. You know that’s not like her, she didn’t even call me darling or nothin’.”

 

“I’ll find her. Just to make sure she’s alright.”

 

He snapped and found himself in a massive cemetery, easily the largest he’d ever seen. Looking around through the misting rain, he could feel Rhea but couldn’t see her anywhere. He strolled up a small hill and browsed the spaces below. There she was, her small, feminine form knelt on the ground with her shoulders moving raggedly. He could tell she was sobbing. He waited a few meters back, allowing her the space she needed for the one she was mourning. He watched her arm come up to dry her tears and she placed the flower Sam had mentioned on the headstone, kissing the name softly at the corner of the writing. He couldn’t read it from his distance so he moved forward, placing a hand on her shoulder when he was close enough. She gasped and whipped her head around to see him. “Crowley?” She sniffled, “What’re you doin’ here?”

 

“Moose and Squirrel said you seemed heartbroken today, I wanted to make sure you were alright.” He gave her a soft smile, and knelt beside her, running a hand along her spine. He read the name etched into the face of the gray stone:

[ ](http://s1146.photobucket.com/user/SammysDove_CrowleysKitten/media/Henry_zpslugafdxp.jpg.html)

 

A solitary tear cascaded down one of the many glistening tracks on her olive cheek.

 

“This is my husband. He died in at the Battle of the Bulge, he lied about his age so he could fight” She paused, taking in a ragged breath. “He was immortal like me, he never would’ve died, but he was so… determined to stand up for everyone. What Hitler and those Nazis were doin’ to all those innocent people, he couldn’t bear not helping somehow. Part of me will always love him for that, and part of me is so selfish.” She finished in a whisper.

 

“What do you mean?” Crowley whispered, her whispering made him feel genuinely rude to speak normally.

 

“I’m proud he died doing what he believed in, but the other part of me wants him back so bad sometimes.” She sobbed. “He was a good man, he deserved so much better than he got, all o’ them boys did… At his funeral, a friend he’d made over there came and stood by me. He gave--” Her voice gave way to more tears, and she gasped for air. “He gave me a picture of me, he sai-- He said Henry used carry it everywhere he went. Said he never left anywhere without it.” She rested her head against Crowley’s shoulder, “Thank you for coming out here and findin’ me, his birthday and the anniversary are always the hardest for me... it’s nice not feeling all alone for a change.”

 

“You’re never alone, Pet. You have Castiel, and the boys… me even.”

 

“Thank you.” They sat in silence and Crowley watched as she seemed to study every line of the stone, though she was a million miles away. Suddenly a faint smile spread across her face, “He always did love chinese bellflowers, said the color reminded him of my eyes.” His gaze fell to the small purple flower at the base of the stone, “He sent me a letter from Germany once, told me an old woman had a little plant of ‘em comin’ down her window sill. He told her ‘bout me and he said she plucked a flower from her plant and placed it in his hands. Said it was like my way of being there with him, without him being able to hold me in his arms.” She laughed a little, “Said he’d have to settle for holdin’ the plant ‘n his hand instead.” Crowley stayed silent, sitting beside her awkwardly. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand and sniffled again. “He said he almost died that night… he got hit with shrapnel, he was bleedin’ real bad but they managed to get him fixed up, there wasn’t anyway he coulda fixed himself. He wrote to me and said he had my picture and that flower,” She paused to fight tears, “He said I was his little luck charm, that I was why he survived that night. For me.”

 

“You’re fortunate to have had that type of love.” He stared at the carvings, rethinking his love for Rhea. She had a great love and it was stolen from her. Crowley could bring him back for her, like the boys had been brought back so many times. Who was he kidding, it would have destroyed every ounce of human he had regained. It would break his heart to see her with a man besides himself, he knew it was selfish, but he couldn’t help himself. Seeing her brightened his day, his visits to the bunker were more frequent in hopes of just claiming a glance at her.

 

The raven hair, the perfectly pigmented skin, the shimmering lavender eyes… All of it had him completely hooked. If he could sell his soul again, he’d sell it just to hold her closely for at least a little while. Ten years would be better than never. Crowley knew he could force her hand in marriage, but the thought actually repulsed him. He couldn’t force her into a one sided marriage.

 

“What do you mean?” She inquired, drawing him from his dilemma.

 

“Not everyone is gifted that depth of devotion. 72 years and you still cry for him. I guarantee the woman I was with in life would spit on my grave if she were still alive.”

 

“You were married?”

 

“No, not exactly, we had a son… out of wedlock. It was one of the many brilliant decisions I made as a human.”

 

“May I asked what happened to her?”

 

He dropped his arm from her shoulder, “She left when our son was young. Just like my mother. Can’t say I blame her though. I was never sober, I was abusive, we fought constantly. And she was a whore, we both were, honestly, which didn’t help the situation… If anything, I got worse once she left.”

 

“I’m sorry to hear that… I hope you can see what a good man you are now, you’ve changed for the better over the past centuries. You seem to have grown, from the sound of it at least.”

 

“How pathetic is it that you improve once you become a demon… Probably wouldn’t have sold my soul had things been different.”

 

“What did you sell your soul fo’?” He could tell by her eyes that the boys hadn’t told her, and he smirked, making it a priority to avoid eye contact when he made his admission.

 

“Double digits.”

 

“I beg your pardon?” Her eyes widened a little and she glanced down before looking back to his eyes. “You mean like, double digits… down south.”

 

“Three extra inches… below the belt.” He finally chanced eye contact with her and he found an amused smile on her face.

 

She erupted in a quiet laughter, and shook her head. “You men and your priorities.”

 

“Well, we’re not perfect. Most of us anyway, I suppose a few are.”

 

“No, please, don’t think by my goin’ on that Henry was any sort of saint… During forty-three years of marriage you have your fair share of fights. That’s one thing I can promise you. We yelled at each other, and he got he my face and I got in his… At the end of the day we always came to our senses though. We loved each other too much to throw the towel in. I guess that’s what matters, huh?”

 

“Has to count for something… We should get you indoors, it’s starting to rain harder.”

 

“I suppose you’re right, thank you for coming out to find me.” She smiled, “I really do ‘ppreciate it.”

 

“Think nothing of it, Pet.”

 

**She said one last goodbye to Henry’s grave and wrapped her arms around Crowley’s waist. With no more than a snap of his fingers, they were in a large room with plush chairs and a large crystal chandelier.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley takes Rhea in from the rain at the cemetery and after a memory filled drink, things take a sour turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey lovelies,
> 
> Here's the second chapter as promised :) I think I'm going to start publishing two or three times a week, instead of four, I'm gonna shoot for every Monday and Wednesday
> 
> Sorry guys :(

* * *

 

_She said one last goodbye to Henry’s grave and wrapped her arms around Crowley’s waist. With no more than a snap of his fingers, they were in a large room with_ _plush chairs and a large crystal chandelier…_

 

It was a large room, but it had an intimate feel to it. Next to a desk in the corner was a little table with a decanter and glasses, Crowley let his hand drop from the small of Rhea’s back and strolled to the table, unstopping the decanter and pouring two drinks.

 

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and Crowley handed her a drink. “Thank you.”

 

“Of course.” His tone was sad, and cold. He turned away from her to stand in front of the window, looking over the rain coated yard.

 

“What’s wrong?” She asked quietly.

 

“Nothing, Pet. It’s idiotic… Sit, enjoy your drink.”

 

“So,” She ventured after a long moment of silence, “Are we in hell, or some other place?”

 

“Some other place.” He replied, sitting across from her and crossing one foot over the other knee. “We’re at my manor, my private manor.”

 

“You make it sound like you have more than one.”

 

“I have six, actually. I had seven but the hardy boys got it burned down when they failed to take out Lucifer.”

 

“Wow, last house I was a little ol’ cottage. And I only had one.”

 

“A cottage? I thought you were wealthy.”

 

She laughed, “I am, but with it being just me, I didn’t see the need to throw a bunch of money into a big house. So, I bought a little stone cottage on the sho’e of some lake up north, and stayed there for decades. Then I got tired of being a recluse and decided I wanted to travel again, so I sold the cottage to some young couple and their new baby girl. I stayed in motel rooms ever since, well before movin’ into the bunker that is.”

 

“A woman of the world.” He smiled.

 

“You have no idea.”

 

“May I ask you a question, Pet.”

 

“Hmm, in the words of a very handsome king I once met, ’Depends on the question’.” He smirked, coupling it with a breathy laugh at her response.

 

“What are you? Heritage wise.”

 

“Greek and French. My momma was Greek and my daddy was French. He always said I looked just her. ‘cept her hair was dark brown, not black.”

 

“You’re mother must’ve been a breathtaking woman if she looked like you.” She dipped her head and blush pooled on her cheeks.

 

“You certainly know how to make a woman blush, Crowley.” She sipped her drink, and rolled the amber liquid around in the glass, “Oh.” Her head shot back up to look Crowley in the eyes, “I never got a chance to thank you for that bottle of Suntory you left on my pillow. It’s amazing, but I can’t believe you spent that kind of money on me.”

 

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Don’t worry about the cost, Darling, you’re worth it.”

 

“Oh, I ain’t worth that much money.”

 

“Pet, I’ve been around a long time. You and I both know how much money accumulates over that amount of time… And you are worth every penny of it.”

 

“I swear if I keep spending time with you, this blush ain’t ever gonna leave my cheeks.”

 

“Rose looks beautiful on you darling.” They continued drinking slowly and making short bursts of conversation, followed by comfortable pauses. When Crowley went to pour the fourth glass, he noticed Rhea watching him with a distant look in her eyes. “What?”

 

“Nothing, I was just thinking about everything we said earlier. You do seem to have changed for the better, I wasn’t just saying that to butter you up. I think that whatever woman you were with would be proud to see how you’ve changed.”

 

“I doubt that, but thank you. So…” He trailed off, trying to force the second half of that sentence out.

 

“So…?” She trailed, in prompt.

 

“What was your… husband...like?”

 

“Henry… He was interestin’. He was way younger than me, like a-hundred-and-seventy-some-odd years younger than me. He was born around the time of America’s civil war and we met when he came into my shop wanting something to heal his father. His daddy was normal, but his momma was a witch, so she sent him my way to get a potion.”

 

“How old was he?”

 

She laughed, “I’m not a cradle robber if that’s what you’re asking. He was thirty-two. He would always tell people that he had never found a woman that caught his attention until walkin’ into my shop. After that he came around damn near every day, sometimes just to talk, other times his momma wanted him to pick something up for her. We kept talking and seeing each other for about three years, and then we got married in 1901.”

 

“Did you ever have kids.”

 

He face fell a little, and she sighed. ‘No, that was the one thing we fought about most. He never wanted to have a child, said it was horrible to bring someone into a life of witchcraft and being hunted. We had to uproot our lives and move right after we got married because someone spread rumors about us being witches and Satanists. I mean, sure we were a warlock and a witch, but we were never Satanists, we went to church e’ery Sunday for god sake.”

 

“I’m sorry to hear.”

 

“Well, it got worse. All the race riots were startin’ to spark up everywhere and as you can see,” She moved her arms from under her cloak for display, “I’m a bit darker than most Greek girls.”

 

“You were targeted?”

 

“Mmm hmm. Interracial marriages were startin’ be banned by law, and a quick glance is all most people were willing to give me. So he packed us up again and we found a small place in an isolated corner of Alaska. There were trees for miles around and we didn’t have a single neighbor, he still refused to let me leave the house without him though.”

 

“I take it he had light skin?”

 

“Oh he was as white as the damn snow.” She giggled, making Crowley laugh too. “He always did his best to protect me, and he did a good job until he joined the war in ‘42. He spent weeks forgin’ all the documents he needed and then he went in. We had to move back down into the lower 48.” She reached under her cloak and pulled out a small scrap of paper with a photo on it. The edges were faded, and torn, but you could easily make out the picture. Ghosting her fingers over the ink, she clutched it tightly and then handed it to Crowley. He took it carefully, not wanting to risk damaging her prized possession.

 

He studied the shades of ink silently, it was a man. It wasn’t **a** man, it was **the** man, it was Henry. Young looking in appearance, tall, he looked thin under his uniform. His hair didn’t look they way Crowley assumed regulation may have wanted it to. It flowed, a fluffy, carefree swoop towards the back of his head and away from his long, masculine face. He held his helmet tightly, and looked towards the lens with a determined fear in his eyes.

 

 

“That’s was my Henry.”

 

“He was a lucky man to be cherished by a woman like you. To be still be cherished.”

 

She shook her head minutely, “He knew he wouldn’t make it out. He told me, ‘This ain’t some sad little musket fight, these are real weapons.’. He made me promise him that I’d find someone else and move on.”

 

“You don’t seem to have kept your word.” Crowley recoiled at the thought of Rhea not being a woman of her word.

 

“I did keep my word. I only just realized it a month and a half ago… I hate to be all mushy and feely but, I really do like your company.” She hinted.

 

He moved to sit beside her, placing her photo back in her hand, “I need to be honest with you, Pet.” Her eyes immediately transitioned into a look of pain, “No, please Darling… I didn’t.” He sighed, “Bullocks… I’m not good with emotions. I’ve never been able to trust anyone. Never wanted to trust anyone… I’ve also never been so infatuated with a woman before.”

 

“You’re infatuated with me?” She asked, her eyes regaining the spark he’d fallen in love with. He stopped everything immediately, his breathing even slowed.

 

“Bloody Hell.” He stood and stomped away from her, leaving the office. She hurried after him just before he slammed his bedroom door in her face.

 

“Crowley! Honey, Open the door.”

 

“Just go home.”

 

She tried a softer approach, “I can’t exactly do that, now can I? For one, I don’t even know where I am, and for two… you kinda zapped us here with you’ magic.” Realizing he wouldn’t open the door, she slid her back along it until she sat on the floor. “I’m sorry I said what I did, about keeping the promise. I shouldn’t’ve-- I don’t know. I haven’t done this is damn near a century.” She paused, listening to the sounds on the other side. She could hear his footsteps creak across the floor and back repeatedly, she heard him sigh and pour another glass of whiskey just behind the door. The liquid sloshed into the cup, slicing the heavy silence. Her voice shook a little with shattered hope, “I’ll have Andrew come fetch me.” Rhea sighed, lifting herself to her feet and slowly slipped away from the door.

 

…

 

Crowley sulked, kicking himself as he left his bedroom and headed back to his study to finish off the bottle. He rounded the corner and saw long raven hair. She was still there, and she sat perfectly still on the couch. “Rhea?” He whispered in disbelief.

 

“I couldn’t get a hold of Andrew.” She stated in a quiet, flat tone.

 

“Let me take you home then, it’s the least I can do after how I acted.” He snapped and they stood just inside the archway of the library.

 

Rhea kept her eyes to the floor and whispered a thank you, turning for her bedroom, and not stopping when the boys called after her. Crowley left while they focused on her, not in the mood to be lectured by the Winchesters. She closed her door behind her quickly and locked it seconds before Sam reached it, “Rhea, come on, it’s Sam. Let me in.” He pleaded.

 

“Honey, I know you wanna make me feel better, but… I kinda just wanna be alone for right now.” She dropped her cloak on the floor, uncaring of its final resting place, and plopped down face first on the bed. When she did, she heard a hushed crinkle near her pillow. Rhea lifted herself just enough and saw a bag of mint Milanos with a small red envelope.

 

She scoffed, glanced over the envelope and picked up the cookies. _Mint Milanos, how could he have known,_ she wondered sarcastically. Rhea tore open the envelope and unfurled the four fold stationery.

 

_She walks in beauty, like the night_

_Of cloudless climes and starry skies;_

_And all that’s best of dark and bright_

_Meet in her aspect and her eyes:_

_Thus mellowed to that tender light_

_Which heaven to gaudy day denies._

 

_One shade the more, one ray the less,_

_Had half impaired the nameless grace_

_Which waves in every raven tress,_

_Or softly lightens o’er her face;_

_Where thoughts serenely sweet express_

_How pure, how dear their dwelling place._

 

_And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,_

_So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,_

_The smiles that win, the tints that glow,_

_But tell of days in goodness spent,_

_A mind at peace with all below,_

_A heart whose love is innocent!_

_~Lord Byron_

 

I truly hope you can forgive me for the way I treated you. Never in my life, human or demon, have I found a woman that possesses such a hypnotizing effect on me. I’ve had three hundred years to lose my humanity, to forget how to feel, and you bring it all back. I feel every ounce of humanity flood back inside me whenever I’m in your presence. You make me feel, Darling… And it frightens me. I cherish your company and pray this afternoon wasn’t the last time. I care for you more than any woman I’ve known, and I’m not enough of a man to tell you in person.

**~Crowley**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have recognized the handsome and always wonderful Richard Speight Jr. starring as Henry... What can I say, I'm addicted to the man ;) 
> 
> The picture is taken from the HBO miniseries he was in "Band of Brothers", he portrayed Sgt. Warren "Skip" Muck.... B.o.B is an amazing series about WW2. If you guys haven't seen it, I highly recommend it. Especially if you're a history buff like me.


End file.
